BOYS  and  GIRLS        I 


WA  R 


^  of  t!ie  _Z^ 


CONTENTS : 

Gejifral  Monewall  Ja'jkson- 
Commodore  Foot  and  Colonel 
Smnii,  etc.  etc- 


\yEs       ,    i     :2?fSTOV,  BIcbmomi 


p 


THE  FLOWERS  COLLECT!^  ; 

STORY    OP   A    REFUGEE. 

X  dear  cliildren,  you   wish  to  know 
why  I  a.m  here  so  far  from  my  dear 
old  hoiTje.     I  will  tell  von. 


All  ot  you  have  heard   Pa  aud  Ma   talk 
of  Milroy,  the  Yankee  General.    He    is 

294222 


2  STORIES    OF    THE    WAR. 

a  very  bad  man.  No  one  where  I  lived 
had  a  good  word  for  him.  He  took  away 
all  the  horses,  cows,  pigs,  and  chickens  of 
poor  people  as  well  as  rich  peojDle.  He 
was  a  brute  to  women,  old  men,  like  me ; 
and  did  not  care  what  became  of  little  boys 
and  girls.  If  he  did  not  hke  their  fathers, 
ho  would  seize  them,  and  burn  their  houses 
and  fences.  Ruin  and  this  Milroy  A'vere 
great  friends. 

Well,  I  lived  in  the  Valley  of  Virginia. 
My  liome  was  a  sweet  place  not  far  fi-om  a 
fine,  cle;u-  stream  of  water. 

Pretty  fish  swam  in  the  clear,  silver 
stream.  On  bright  days  Mary  and  Willie 
got  in  a  safe  little  boat  which  I  kept  in  a 
green  nook^  and  I  took  them  to  a  shady 
spot  where  they  caught  fish.  Many  a  lit- 
tle perch  was  caught  and  fried  for  dinner. 
Then  there  were  beehives  where  the   busy 


STORIES     or    THE    WAR.  6 

bees  made  much  sweet  honey  ;  and  a  fine 
orchard  with  apples,  pears,  peaches,  plums 
and  cherries.  There  were  cows  to  give 
milk,  and  horses  to  ride,  and  pifjs  and 
geese,  chickens  and  turkeys.  It  was  a 
sweet  home  where  Uncle  William  and  Ma- 
ry and  Willie  lived. 

Milroy  with  a  long  line  of  bad  men,  each 
with  a  gun,  came  to  my  house  and  took 
my  horse,  my  cow,  and  in  fact  all  ho  could 
lay  his  hands  on.  I  told  him  ii  was  wrong 
to  take  all  I  had,  and  that  God  would  see 
that  it  did  him  no  good.  One  of  his  men 
struck  me,  and  then  set  fire  to  my  house. 
Mary  and  tVillio  were  born  in  that  house, 
and  when  they  saw  the  fire  they  ran  out 
and  cried  as  if  their  hearts  would  break. 

So  the  house  was  soon  burnt,  and  my 
little  family  had  no  good  bed  to  lie  on  at 
night,  nor  &  morsel  to    eat.     But   after    a 

294222 


4  STORIES    OF    THE    WAR. 

while  a  good  friend  took  us  to  his  house, 
yet  it  did  not  seem  like  the  old  home. 

Now  my  children,  you  have  heard  your 
Ma  and  Pt  talk  of  Stonewall  Jackson. 
He  was  a  brave,  good  and  great  man. 

When  he  went  to  fight  the  Yankees,  he 
always  prayed  that  he  might  have  help 
from  God.  1  knew,  that  God  would  pun- 
ish the  bad  men  who  burnt  my  house  and 
drove  us  out  into  the  woods.  Sure  enough 
It  was  so,  for  Jackson  with  his  bra\'e,  good 
men  came  along  and  fought  Milroy  and  his 
bad  men.  Our  friend  Jackson  met  Milroy 
lust  where  my  house  was  burnt.  The 
smoke  was  still  rising  from  the  black  ruins. 
Milroy  ran  as  hard  as  he  could  out  of  the 
Valley,  and  Jackson  after  him. 

Every  thing  looked  drear  and  lonely., 
My  good  friend  did  his  best  to  make  us  hap- 
py, but  I  could  not  sleep  for  I  saw  but  the 


STORIES    OF    THE    WAR.  5 

fire  and  ruins,  and  the  bad  Yankees.     Ma- 
ry and  Willie  wept  themselves  to  sleep. 


While  I  was  at  the  house  of  this  good 
friend,  a  little  while  after  the  fight  with  Mil- 
roy,  I  saw  the  bad  Yankees  under  General 
Shields  and  Fremont,  and  Banks,  run 
away  from  Jackson.  The  great  ''Stone- 
wall," had  whipped  them,  and  their  dead 
and  wounded  lay  on  the  field  of  battle 
ghastly  to  see, 


0  STORIES    or    THE    WAR. 

This  Yankee  Banks  ran  away  to  Win- 
chester, where  Uncle  William,  when  he 
was  a  boy,  went  to  school.  Our  good 
"Stonewall"  came 'to  that  town  and  made 
Banks  run  across  the  Potomac  river.  When 
"Stonewall"  got  to  Winchester,  all  the 
men  shouted  for  him,  and  the  good  ladies 
rushed  into  the  street  and  gave  our  soldiers 
all  sorts  of  sweet  and  good  things  to  eat. 
Even  the  little  boys  and  girls  clapped 
their  hands  and  cried,  '^  Huzza,  for  our 
friend,  Jackson !"  Tears  of  joy  stole 
down  the  cheeks  of  old  men  Hke  myself, 
when  they  heard  the  cry  in  every  part  of 
town,  "Huzza,  for  glorious  Stonewall!" 
Even  the  little  negro  boys,  Tom,  Jerry, 
Pink  and  Reub,  joined  in  the  cry  against 
the  hated  Yankees. 

And  now,  my  little  friends,  stop  just 
here,  for  Uncle  William  wants   to  shout 


PTOaiE*    or    THE    WAR.  7 

too.  Raise  your  little  hands  and  swing 
them  around  your  head  every  time  I  do, 
and  cry,  "Huzza,  for  'Stonewall!'-'  One 
more,  "  Huzza !"  one  more,  "  Huzza  I" 
That  wag  well  done. 

Take  your  map  and  get  Pa  or  Ma  to  tell 
you  where  the  Valley  is.  It  was  a  dear, 
sweet  place  before   the    Yankees   came    to 


burn  and  rob,  God  will  punish  them  for 
their  bad  deeds,  for  they  have  made  many 
a  widow  and  orphan. 

Here  I  am,  my  dear  children,  without  a 
home,  but  the  war  will  end  some  day,  and 


'   8 


STORIES    OF    THE    WAR. 


then  I  will  try  to  build  a  new  house,  and 
raise  more  horses,  cows  and  chickens.  If 
you  ever  come  that  way  on  Christmas,  step 
in  and  see  Uncle  William. 


THE    MOUNTAIN    GUIDE. 


O  you  wish  to   listPTi   to'  another  little 
story?    I  see  your  eyes  light  up,  and  • 
they  say  as  plain   as  words  can  tell  me : 
Uncle  William,  tell  us  another  story. 

Well,  "  Stonewall"  wfts  m  the  habit  of 
marching  his  men  at  a  very  rapid  rate  over 
tall  mountains  called  the  Blue  JRidge. 
Even  goats  have  a  very  hard  time  to  climb 
up  ihe  high  rocks  and  through  little  nar- 
row paths  that  lead  over  the  Blue  Piidge 
But  "  Stonewjill's"  men,  who  were  called 
"  Foot  Cavalry"  because  they  were  so  fleet 
in  their  movements,  moved  fast  over  the 
big  hills  and  the  huge  rocks. 

Tn  this  way  they  often   pounced   upon 


10  STORIES    OF    THE    WAR. 

the  Yankees  when  they  thought  "  Stone- 
wall" was  far  off. 

One  dark  night  when  there  were  neither 
moon  nor  stars  "Stonewall"  wanted  a  guide. 
He  found  a  cabin  at  the  foot  of  the  ;moun- 
tain.  In  this  cabin  lived  old  uncle  Ned, 
who  had  been  born  on  the  spot. 

Uncle  Ned  heard  the  fife  and  the  drum, 
and  thought  the  Yankees  had  come.  He 
was  very  much  scared,  for  he  hated  the 
Yankees.  They  had  once  been  in  his  cab- 
in, stole  his  milk  and  bread,  robbed  his  po- 
tato patch,  and  carried  off  his  young  mas- 
ter as  a  prisoner; 

So  Uncle  Ned  seized  a  tallow  candle, 
and  looked  out  ot  his  window  tremblmg  all 
the  time,  while  his  eyes  grew  as  large  as 
Mexican  dollars. 

In  a  few  moments,  a  soldier  rode  up  and 
asked  Uncle  Ned  to  shew  him  a'  path  over 


STORIES    or    THE    TfAR.  11 


liUvi 


w^^^- 

'0w 


^^:^i 


'^  /fit) 


12  SSTORIES    OF    THE    WAR. 

the  mountain.  Uncle  Xed  cried  out :  "  Is 
you  a  Con  fed.  or  a  Yank  V  "I  am  a  Con- 
federate officer,"  replied  the  soldier  in  the 
grey  coat,  and  with  stars  on  his  collar. 
''Well  den  marster,"  said  uncle  Ne',  I  will 
'tend  to  you  right  'way.  But  stop,  who  is 
at  de  head  of  all  dese  men.  Is  it  old 
"Stonewall."  "Yes,"  said  the  officer,  "I  am 
"Stonewall."  "Hurray  !"  cried  uncle  Ned, 
"hurray !  I  goes  wid  you  all  ober  de  Blue 
Ridge  !  hurray  !"  and  he  swung  his  old 
hat  in  the  air. 

So  the  faithful  negro  shut  the  wmdaw, 
locked  the  door  of  his  cabin  and  was  soon 
seen  guiding  the  army  through  the  moun- 
tain pass. 

Uncle  Ned,  was  a  good  guide.  He  knew 
every  foot  of  the  tall  lonely  mountain,  for 
he  had  gone  over  it  hundreds  of  times  into 
the  valley  beyond.     Jackson  got  over  safe, 


STORILS    OF    THE    WAR.    ,  13 

and  rushed  upon  the  Yankee  camp.  The 
Yankees  were  at  breakfast  and  having  a 
good  time  of  it  at  their  messes.  All  at 
once  they  heard  the  crack  of  our  guns,  and 
in  great  terror  each  man  fell  iiito  ranks. 
After  a  short  fight,   the  Yankees  ran  away. 

"What  became  of  uncle  Ned  r'  you  ask. 
He  had  got  a  gun  and  fought  too,  but  hav- 
nig  gone  too  close  to  the  Yankees,  he  was 
taken  prisoner,  and  forced  away  with  ihem. 

Some  time  after  this  fight,  a  party  'of 
'Stonewall's'''  men  made  a  dash  uno  ^  Yan- 
kee camp  near  Winchester,  and  routed 
them.  In  this  fight  Uncle  Ned  got  away, 
and  ft'hen  ''Stonewall"  marched  his  army 
inio  Wmchester,  who  do  you  thiuk  rode 
into  town  in  great  glee? 

A  crowd  of  soldiers  and  people  were 
gathered  on  the  street,  laughing  fit  to  kill 
themselves.^  Riding  along  was  Uqcle  Ked 


14  STORIES    OF    THE    WAR. 

on  a  little  pony  with  a  Yankee  behind 
him.  He  had  captured  the  Yankee  in  the 
woods  and  was  bringing  him  to  "  old 
Stonewall."  The  Yankee  did  not  like  to 
ride  behind  Uncle  Ned,  and  came  near 
falling  off  when  his  captor  struck  the  pony 
a  lick  with  his  whip.  ''  Hold  on,  Yank ! 
said  Uncle  Ned,  "hold  on,  for  if  you  don't 
I'll  blow  your  head  off  with  dis  here  pistol 
You  is  de  chap  dat  took  my  milk  an 
potatoes,  and  now  I'se  goin'  to  carry  yoy 
to  d«r  prison  where  all  de  rogues  lib."  Andj 
so  he  did  to  the  great  amusement  of  the| 
soldiers  and  people. 

Let  me  tell  you,  ray  dears,  how  Jack-I 
son  came  to  be  called  "  Stonewall."  Hid 
Christian  name  was  Thomas,  bear  that  in 
mind.  You  have  heard  often,  no  doubt, 
of  the  great  battle  of  Manassas.  Well, 
when  the  fight  got  to  be  ver.y  hard,  Gen- 


STORIKS     OF    THK    WAR.  15 

eral  Bee  said  to  bis  men,  "  Look  at  Jack- 
son, he  stands  as  firm  as  a  stone  wall  ! " 
Sure  enough  he  did  stand  like  a  wall  of 
stone,  for  the  Yankees  could  not  make 
him  budge  an  inch,  but  after  a  while  took 
to  their  heels  and  ran  off  to  Wjishington 
City  as  f^ist  as  their  legs  could  carry  them. 
Some  of  them  were  so  scared  that  when 
they  got  to  the  City  they  fell  down  and 
fainted.  So  the  bad  men  who  came  over 
a  broad  stream  and  walked  many  miles  to 
fight  our  friends,  left  their  hora^,  wag- 
gons, guns  and  knapsacks,  on  the  road,  so 
great  was  their  hurry  to  get  away.  Ever 
after  that  great  fight,  all  our  friends  called 
Jackson,  ''  Stonewall"  Jackson,  as  the 
good  General  Bee  had  said. 

Every  one  in  the  Valley,  and  all  over 
the  land,  had  no  fears  when  "  Stonewall " 
got  after  the  Yankees,  for  they  knew  he   % 


16 


STORIES    OF    THE    WAR. 


would  whip  them.  And  he  did  whip  them 
all  the  time.  "  Stonewall"  died  and  all 
the  people  meurned  for  him. 


COMMOUOllE    FOOTE 

AND 

COLOXEL    SMALL. 


^\> 


Vi 


fr  ITT  LI::  (TULDliEK :— 1  am  going  to 
<ij  tell  you  a  little  story  about  little  men 
and  little  thii\y,s.    Many  who  will  read  this 


18  SrORIKS     FOR,    THB    YCaJSG. 

little  story  hare  no  doubt  heard  of  General 
Tom  Thumd. 

Before  the  two  little  men  that  I  am  go^ 
ing  to  tell  you  about  came  into  the  world, 
Tom  Thumb  w  as  the  smallest  man  that 
was  ever  seen.  His  right  name  was  not  | 
Thumb,  but  his  mother  gave  him  that 
name  because  he  was  so  small.  His  mother 
was  a  large,  stout  woman,  and  she  could 
hold  little  Tom  in  one  of  her  hands  when 
he  was  twenty  years  old ;  and  it  is  said 
that  sl]||^sed  to' sing — 

"  My  son  he  is  a  little  man 
Xot  bigger  than  my  thumb ; 
1  put  him  in  a  new  tin  cup 
And  there  I  bid  him  drum." 

I  saw  this  wonderful  little  fellow  many- 
years  ago.  He  was  then  going  around  the 
youBtrj^,  showing  himself,  m  company  with 


STORIES     FOR    THK    YOUNG.  19 

the  tallest  man  in  the  world — Mr.  Porier, 
the  Kentucky  giant;  and  they  were  a 
funny  couple  truly.  Little  Tom's  head 
only  reached  up  to  the  giant's  kupe,  and 
yet  they  were  both  grow^  men  s.nd  very 
little  difference  in  their  ages 

Mr.  Porter,  the  giant,  is  now  dead,  but 
little  Tom  Thumb  is  yet  living,  and  he  ia 
married  to  a  little  woman  about  his  own 
size  and  age. 

HuL  1  must  return  to  the  heroes  of  my 
Btory — Commodore  Foote  and  Coi^-el 

S.MAt.L. 

Last  winter  1  wa.s  a  })nsoner  with  the 
Yankees  in  New  Orleans,  and  there  I  saw 
these  two  most  wonderful  little  men  that 
ever  lived. 

When  I  first  saw  them,  they  were  drir- 
ing  aV<out  the  streets  of  that  great  city  in 
thviir  Kwoot  littlo  cavfiagro,  mi  lumli  hvg%v 


20 


STORIE?     FOR    THE    YOUNG. 


than  a  cradle,  which  was  drawn  by  two 
pretty  Cashmere  goats,  instead  of  horses, 
With  their  driver,  a  little  man  not  much 
Mgger  than  themselves,  sitting  on  the  driv- 
^s  box,  with  reins  and  whip  in  hand; 
fXTid  the  little  carriage,  the  little  goat-horses, 
the  httle  driver,  and  the  little  men  inside 
the  carriage,  (looking  out  at  the  window, 
shaking  hands  with  the  hundreds  of  child- 
ren and  ladies  and  gentlemen  who  followed 
and  surrounded  .  them,)  looked  for  all  the 
world^fust  as  you  see  them  in  the  picture 


STORIES    FOR    THR    YOUNG.  21 

Driving  around  the.  city  in  this  way  at- 
tracted the  attentiOD  of  everybody  who  saw 
the  curious  little  carrj.ige  and  its  still  more 
curious  inmates  ;  and  the  result  was  that 
all  the  children  in  the  city,  and  many 
grown  people,  were  nearly  crazy  to  go  to 
the  show  and  see  the  wonderful   Lttle  men. 

As  I  was  a  crippled  soldier,  the  Yan- 
kees did  not  keep  me  iu  prison  ;  so  1  was 
allowed  to  go  about  the  city  anywhere  I 
wished.  Well,  that  night  I  went  to  the 
Museum  to  see  these  wonderful  little  men. 

The  Museum  was  crowded  with  people, 
fully  one-half  of  whom  were  little  children, 
and  when  Commodore  Foote  and  Colonel 
►Small,  who  looked  like  dressed-up  dolk, 
a]>peared  on  the  stage  and  cut  up  all  sorts 
of  capers,  making  speeches  like  great  men 
in  Congress,  drilling  and  fighting  like  sol- 


22  STORIES    FOR    THK    YOUNG. 

diers  in   the   field,  singing  songs,  dancint 
and  acting  like  clowns  in  the  circus,  al 
the   children   present    nearly   burst   theii 
sides  with  laughter,  and  men  and  womer 
joined  in  with  many  a  hearty  ha!  ha  I  ha 
Then   they  told   the   people   that   they 
wanted  a  little  giil  to  come  on  the  stagf 
with  them  to  help  them  in  some  of  theiii 
little  plays.      Alter  waiting    a   minute,  a 
little  girl  about  six  year^^  old  was  induced 
to   go ;   and   everybody    in   the   Museum 
laughed  like  fun  when   the  two  little  men 
asked   her  to  hold  out  her  arms,  and  they 
stood  up  by  her  side  just  as  you  see  them 
in  tlie  following  picture.     The  little  girl 
was  a  head  and   shoulders  taller  than  they 
were.     (See  first  page  of  stcry.) 
.    Then    Colonel    SRjall   got   a  chair  and 
stood    up   in    it,  and    put   his   little  arms 
around  the  little  girl's  neck  and  hugged 


5TOUIE5     FOR    TMS    YOUN(;.  23 

and  kissed  her,  and  the  Commodore  walked 
oft  in  a  petj  making  believe  that  he  was 
jealous  because  the  Colonel  was  making 
love  to  the  little  lady. 

The  little  girl  was  delighted  with  the 
loving  attentions  of  the  gallant  Colonel, 
and  all  the  people  present  fairlj  roared 
with  laughter.  And  if  you  had  been  there 
to  see  them,  you  would  laugh  even  now  to 
think  of  it. 

.lust  to  think  of  that  funny  little  ('olonel, 
who  was  dressed  in  a  pair  of  yellow  i)anta- 
loons,  boots  with  rod  lops  and  ?purs,  a 
long  red  vest,  a  blue  coat  with  bright  but- 
tons, and  a  cocked  hat,  and  looking  just 
as  much  like  the  great  Napoleon  as  you 
possibly  can  imagine,  down  on  his  knees 
before  the  little  maiden,  telling  her  how  his 
httle  heart  would  burst  wide  open  if  she 
did  not  return  his  love,  and  telling  her  what 


24  STORIES     Foil    THE    TOUNG. 

a  great  warrior  he  was,  and  what  a  line 
lady  she  would  be  if  she  would  marry  him ; 
why,  the  very  thoughts  of  it  makes  me 
laugh  even  \\hile  I  am  telling  you  the 
story. 

But  the  little  girl  made  the  Colonel  no 
answer ;  and  then  he  ran  off  the  stage,  and  I 
got  his  little  carriage,  with  the  litile  driver  j 
on  the  boji,  and  rode  in  where  the  little 
girl  was.  Then  he  jumped  out  of  the  car- 
nage and  took  the  little  girl  by  the  hand, 
and  beo;ged  her  to  get  m  and  take  a  ride  j 
with  him.  But  the  little  girl  only  laughed » 
for,  though  she  was  but  six  years  old,  she 
was  larger  than  the  two  little  men  both  to- 
gether, and  she  knew  that  the  carriage  was 
not  big  enough  to  hold  her  alone — for  the 
carriage,  the  goat-horses,  the  driver,  and 
the  little  men,  all  together,  were  no  larger 
than  a  -baby's  carriage  drawn  by  two  big 
doffs. 


STORIES     FOli    TlIK    YOVSC.  25 

So  the  little  girl  laughed  lit  to  kill  her- 
sflf,  and  ran  to  her  father  \s  ho  was  wait- 
ing for  her  at  the  foot  of  the  stage,  aud 
jumped  into  his  anns;  and  the  Colom] 
hurried  into  his  carriage,  when  the  driver 
cracked  his  whip  and  they  drove  off  at  a 
gallop. 

In  a  few  moments  more,  the*  little  men 
came  back  on  the  stage,  and  the  Commo- 
dore told  the  Colonel  that  he  had  offended 
him  by  making  love  to  the  little  maiden, 
and  that  ihey  must  decide  who  should 
have  her  by  fighting. 

Well^  this  being  agreed  upon,  they 
each  put  on  great  big  mittens,  called  box- 
ing gloves,  and  at  it  they  went.  The  gloves 
were  padded  with  cotton,  so  that  they 
could  not  hurl  each  other,  though  they  hit 
as  hard  as  they  could,  right  in  the  face, 
and  knocked  one  another  down  almost  at 


26  STORIES     FOR    THE    YOUNG. 

every  blow.  As  they  could  not  decide 
the  matter  in  this  way,  they  agreed  to 
tight  a  regular  duel,  and  so  they  each 
took  a  sword  and  they  fought  a  mimic 
battle,  in  which  the  Coiimodore  made  be- 
lieve that  he  was  killed,  and  the  Colonel 
dragged  his  body  from  the  stage — when 
the  curtain  fell. 

They  played  many  other  funny  tricks 
and  plays,  and  said  many  queer  thint;}-? 
but  I  must  stop  here,  as  I  have  no  more  i 
time  to  devote  to  them  just  now.  But, 
])y  and  by,  after  I  have  told  you  many 
other  pretty  stfiries,  1  may  have  something 
more  to  say  about  Commodore  Foole  and 
Colonel  Small. 


THE    LOST    KITE. 


HEN  I  was  a  little  boy  my  Uncle 
made  me  a  very  beautiful  kite,  and 
the  first  lime  1  went  out  to  tly  it,  I  foolish- 
ly let  go  the  stnuo-,  and  it  flew  away,  fell 
in  the  river  aad  was  lost.     When  I  went 


28  STORIES    FOR    THE    YOUNCx, 

to  my  Uncle  and  told  him,  with  tears  in 
my  eyes,  what  had  happened  and  what 
had  become  of  my  kite,  my  Uncle  sat 
dow^n  and  wrote  the  pretty  piece  of  poetry 
which  follows: 

My  kite,  my  kite,  I've  lost  my  kite ! 

O,  when  I  saw  the  steady  flight 

With  which  she  gained  her  lofty  height, 

How  could  I  kuov/  that  letting  go 

That  naughty  string,  would  bring  so  low 

My  pretty,  buoyant,  darling  kite, 

To.  pass  for  ever  out  of  sight ! 

A  purple  cloud  came  sailing  by, 
With  silver  fringes,  o'er  the  sky, 
And  then  I  thought  it  seemed  so  nigh 
I'd  let  my  kite  go  up  and  light 
Upon  its  edge,  so  soft  and  bright, 
And  see  how  noble,  high  and  proud 
She'd  look  while  riding  on  a  cloud. 


STORIES     FOR    THE    YOUNG. 


29 


As  near  its  shining  marks  she  drew 

I  clapped  my  hands,  the  hne  shpped  through 

My  si}]y  fingers,  and  she  flew 

Away,  away,  in  airy  p^ay, 

Right  over  where  the  waters  lay — 

She  veered,  fluttered,  swung,  and  gave 

A  plunge,  then  vanished  with  the  wave. 

I  never  more  shall  want  to  look 
On  that  false  cloud  or  treacherous  brook, 
Nor  wish  to  feel   the  breeze  that  took 
My  dearest  joy,  to  thus  destroy 
My  pastime     while  a  hMi)[iy   Imy. 


THE  BRAVE  EDITOR. 


§UT    very   few  of  my  young   readers 
have  ever  seen  a  great  battle.    Jt  is 
really  frightful  to  see  the  dfefid  and  dying 


STORIKS     FOR    THE    YOUNG.  31 

strenn  thick  upon  the  ground  ;  and  when 
the  whistling  1)al!s  and  shrieking  shells  pass 
throu^'h  the  air  with  the  si)eed  of  lig^lning, 
no  wonder  that  the  ear  i»  startled,  the  hair 
stands  on  end,  and  the  heart  almost  ceases 
to  beat  with  mortal  terror. 

At  the  commencement  of  this  story  is 
the  picture  of  a  brave  Editor  of  a  Confed- 
erate nf'ATspai^er,  as  he  appeared  on  the 
battle-held  of  Chancellorsville,  w^hich  he 
visited  for  the  purpose  of  writing  a  df>- 
scription  of  the  fight.  You  see  his  pen  in 
his  hand,  and  his  hair  stands  up  so  straight 
that  it  has  caused  his  hat  lo  fall  fjom  his 
head.  He  was  writing  about  the  battle 
that  was  raging  fiercely  all  around,  when 
all  at  once  a  Yankee  battery  began  firing 
upon  the  very  spot  he  had  chosen  as  the 
best  from  w^hich  to  get  a  good  view  of  the 
terrible  struggle,    Tbe  cannon  bills  and 


32  STORIES    FOR    THE    i'OUXG. 

bomb  shells  are  falling  thick  around  him, 
and.  as  you  see  by  the  picture,  he  is  really 
terrified.  But  he  is  a  brave  man,  and 
though  in  a  periloits  situation  is  determined 
to  stand  his  ground. 

He  did  stand  his  ground  !  and  in  a  few 
moments  a  corps  of  Confederate  troops,  led 
by  the  gallant  Jackson,  charged  the  ene- 
my's battery,  took  their  cannon  trom  them, 
and  drove  them  in  confusion  from  the  field. 
So  the  brave  Editor  esca[)ed  unharmed. 

The  Editor  about  whom  I  have  been 
tcillug  you  IS  a  rchgious  and  pious  man 
and  hy  says  that  nothing  but  the  unseen 
hand  of  Gcd  could  have  turned  the  deadly 
balls  and  shells  aside  and  saved  him  from 
harm.  Thus,  God  is  good  to  tho>e  who 
love  and  fear  him. 


f  BOYS'  AI^B   ^Iltl^S'f 

I    Stories    of    the    War.    4 

I ^ 1 

i  UNCLE   WILLIAM'S  I 

'*  *• 

4.  STORY    OF  A 

\gES!.  STOSEWALi  JACKSO»,| 

"%  This  is  a  beautiraly  illustrated,  and  well^ 
s  written  story,  calculated  to  create  a  desire  * 
•Sin  the  youthful  mind  for  farther  mforma--^ 
"^tion  of  this  illustrious  and  lamented  fyeneral,  -i- 

I  COMMODORE  FOOT,  and  COLON-  i, 
%  ^     EL  SMALL.  f 

*  Interesting,  and  nujmerously  illustrated,  f 
4  MY  LOST  KITE,  •- 

#  A  Vjeautifully  illust'atGiI  Poem.  \ 

„^,~  IN  PRESS.  "4 

l^-And  will  be  published  lu  a  fi-vV  dxys,  the'f' 
i        adventures  and  wonderful  .'.scapes  of    ~  t 

|r  Oen.    jolin,  M.    Morgan,   f 

Yv'ilh  numerous  illustratioos,     .  * 


i'     Orders  from  the  trade  wiH   be  supplied H" 

i  by  West  &  Johnston,  Richmund.  i 

^  "^^w***^  vj5<<<»-»»i>  -Ji^^  •»«»->  '^^  ■■''<>-^  4}<«*  »»»>  v^fd*  k 


